


Paladin

by straylids



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Mafia AU, Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straylids/pseuds/straylids
Summary: After being caught up in situations you didn’t want to be in, you vowed you’d never play hero again. But will your conviction hold throughout?
Relationships: Seo Changbin/Reader
Kudos: 11





	Paladin

**Author's Note:**

> whew it’s the first time i’m writing action and i’m not very good at it, but i hope it worked for y’all! x

Sitting at the back of the lecture theatre always had its perks; eagle-eye view of everything that was happening below, nap sessions whenever you needed it, and best of all, not being followed by two hundred pairs of eyes when you have to use the main door to leave mid-lecture because your bladder decides that it has reached its maximum capacity. 

You settle into your seat and make yourself comfortable as students stream into the area; your heightened status making others seem like little ants. A few minutes in and you get bored of staring at unfamiliar faces, resorting to doodling flowers and stickmen on the first page of your clean notebook. 

“Maybe I should have applied to be an art major,” you mutter to yourself, admiring your doodle when a voice speaks up from the left of you. 

“You’d have to submit a portfolio during application and no one in their right mind is going to let you into the course.”

Rolling your eyes, you shut your notebook with a ‘snap’, turning to face the person who had the guts to insult your masterpiece.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Seo ‘Shit Hands’ Changbin,” you scoff, taking a good look at the boy beside you, staring him down as he puts his bag onto the ground and takes his seat beside you. “You’re early to lecture today. That’s a first.”

“I can be responsible sometimes,” was the answer you received.

Seo Changbin—your friend from college whom you had the same classes with—never turned up more than necessary. He wasn’t what you would consider a close friend, who you shared insignificant feelings and problems to, but he was friend enough that you could complain about your lecturer’s horrible skills and terrible planning when it came to assignments. 

He was also friend enough for you to be worried about the bruises that covered his knuckles and cheekbone. The colour of the bruises was a clear purplish-blue, indicating that he had acquired them very recently; most probably a day or two before.

“Are you alright?” you ask, eyes filling with worry as you run them over his bruises. “Those look nasty.”

Immediately realising that you had set eyes on his bruises, he turned his face away and hid his hand in his lap, letting out a quick “it’s nothing” before turning the pages of his notes—in hopes of making it look like he was busy studying the material—and you were smart enough to drop the topic as quickly as you had brought it up because it was clear to you that he didn’t want to talk about it.

With perfect timing, you hear the boring voice of your professor flood the lecture hall, making you sigh out loud. 

“I swear, he has to be a siren or something. His voice puts you right to sleep but then he also tries to kill you because of it,” you say, hoping your lame joke was enough to extinguish the awkward silence that was hanging in the air between Changbin and you. And it worked.

It was only for a second, but you were sure you saw the corners of his lips lifting. 

* * *

It was a Thursday night; which also meant that it was grocery night.

The only reason you chose to go grocery shopping on Thursdays was so that you could spend your Friday and weekends snacking and binge-watching your favourite shows without any unneeded movements. Thursdays were also the best day for grocery shopping because of the many sales the store was offering, to get rid of old stocks before replacing them with new items so that they can increase prices over the weekend. After all, you were a broke college student who was just trying to save money whenever you could. 

"That would be 25.30.” The cashier’s monotonous voice reaches your ears, putting robots to shame. Poor chap—he was probably doing a full day shift, dealing with snobby idiots and bratty children. 

Usually, you wouldn’t have bothered when someone else was in a bad mood, but thinking of your favourite show that was waiting for you paired with a miraculous lack of assignments, you throw the cashier a smile and wish him a good night, earning a surprised glance from him. It definitely wasn’t everyday cashiers were wished a good day; usually people just tapped their foot impatiently, waiting to whisk their bags and leave. 

Satisfied with the surprised look on his face, you collect your bags and walk out of the store, a bounce evident in your step as you swing your bags back and forth. With nothing else to entertain you for the 15-minute walk back to your apartment, you start to sing your favourite songs. Loudly. 

Halfway through your self-concert, you start to take notice of the smallest things happening around you: It is a breezy night out; branches on trees swaying side to side freely with the trust that it was safely attached to the sturdy trunk anchored deep down into the soil. The wind combs through your hair as the stars twinkle brightly in the night sky, seemingly winking at everyone cheekily as they walk under them. The moon, seemingly irritated by the stars, illuminates the area brightly, causing the stars to disappear momentarily, but providing the people who were out on the streets with more comfort and a higher sense of security. Simply put, it is a beautiful night.

But while you were busy admiring the smallest things around you, you fail to notice that your beautiful night was about to be destroyed.

“ _So should I give up but really can I give up we live in a_ -” You’re abruptly cut off as someone roughly shoves you out of the way, causing you to drop your grocery bags, your groceries spilling out of the bag. You cursed under your breath when you realised you were just a few metres away from your home. 

_If only I had walked slightly faster… Maybe it’s time to hit the gym._

Just then, from the corner of your eyes, you manage to catch flashes of black running past you, each shouting incoherent words. 

With the annoyance of being pushed out of the way so close to your home and seeing your groceries spilt all out on the road, you open your mouth to shout at the group of men when you finally grasp what one of the men was saying, causing your blood to run cold. 

“I think he ran into that alley! Quickly, fuck, we’ve got to finish him today or we won’t get another chance to!”

_Finish….. him?_

You stand rooted to the ground as the words continuously echo in your ears. There was going to be a murder happening in the alleyway seven metres away from you and you were going to be the only one who knows about it. 

The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just walk straight ahead and into the safety of your home which meant that you were less likely to be murdered; but the other reckless part of your brain was tapping into the humane part of you, telling you that you would be as bad as the murderers if you left the poor soul alone without even trying to help. 

_Damn you, rational part of my brain._

With your mind clearly made up, you walk slowly towards the alleyway, gripping your grocery bags tightly so that the plastic does not create any rustling noises that would give away your unwanted presence. Sticking out your head as much as you could without being seen, you slowly take in the sight in front of you. 

There were four men—who very much resembled heavyweight champions— crowding around a shorter man, who fell short by a large margin in comparison to the other four. His blonde hair blending in effortlessly with his pale skin, almost making it seem like he was emitting a glow in contrast to the dark alleyway. With the way you saw the four men cornering the smaller man, you knew that he stood no chance that night. 

At the sound of the men’s voices, your ears perk up, trying to catch as much as you could. 

“…Boss is going to be really happy…”

“…there is no way you can escape now since you’re alone…”

“… SKZ is about to lose their leader…”

Panic fills you once again as you realise that you were running out of time to help the blonde man. Unable to hear his response (”it was probably just him begging for mercy,” you thought), you bravely—or some would say, dumbly—call out to the group in the alleyway, finally revealing yourself at the entrance, hands gripping the plastic bags.

“Hey!”

At the sound of your voice, five heads turn towards you almost simultaneously. If this was any other situation, you were sure you would have laughed out loud. But now that you knew the gravity of the situation, all you could do was gulp and pretend you were strong so that some miracle could happen and you could live to the ripe old age of 80 with the love of your life and five children. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

Starting to freak out at the tone of one of the men, you curse yourself out in your head for not thinking of a proper plan before jumping in to save that man. Frantically, your hands search your jeans and jacket when you feel a bottle in the jacket that you didn’t bother to clear out before wearing it out for grocery shopping.

Pepper spray. 

Feeling braver almost instantaneously, you clear your throat and call out to the men loudly, making sure they couldn’t hear the distinct quiver in your voice. 

“Let the man go,” you say as loudly as you could, fists curling into balls to make sure no part of you gave away the fact that you were shaking on the spot. “Now.”

Unsurprisingly, you’re met with loud guffawing, the four men clearly thinking you were a joke. A pawn that could be destroyed with just one move.

And they weren’t wrong.

“Let the man go or what? What are you gonna do, little bitch? Go cry to mummy?” one thug asked, triggering another round of laughter from the other three. “Well now that you’re you’ve seen us, we’ll just have to take care of you after we’re done with this scum over here.”

As he says that, you see another thug pull out what looked a lot like a knife, the silver glimmering under the strong moonlight. All you had to do was turn on your heel and run out as fast as you could without looking back and you had a chance of surviving, but your feet were not cooperating. It was like all thought was wiped out from your brain—including the knowledge of how to coordinate your limbs to get you the fuck out of there. 

As the knife was passed to the thug holding the blonde man down, you instinctively rush forward, swinging your bags around in hopes of inflicting some kind of pain that will give the both of you some leeway to get out of that alley. 

The resounding sound of metal hitting a surface rings in your ear, followed by a loud “Ouch”, satisfying you as your planned seemed to be working. 

Dropping your groceries and grabbing the blonde man’s hand, your other free hand grabs the pepper spray out of your pocket, and you blindly spray it around in unnecessary amounts, running out of the alley with the man when you’re sure you’ve blinded at least one of the thugs. 

Dragging the man behind you, you run as fast you can towards your apartment, not sparing a second glance behind you in fear that the thugs would be there.

You fumble with your keys and practically jam the right one into the keyhole, throwing the door open and locking yourselves in. 

Hunching over in pain due to a nasty stitch you acquired from the sudden exercise, you finally get a good look at the blonde standing in front of you.

He wasn’t very tall—definitely average—albeit still taller than you. Some might have mistaken him for Snow White with how pale he was. He was wearing an all black outfit, causing his skin and hair to stand out a lot more than usual. 

With how much you were analysing him, you fail to notice the hard stare he was giving you.

“Are you stupid?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. No heartfelt “thank you for saving my life”. None of that. Just him questioning the functionality of your brain. 

“Excuse me?!”

Stitch forgotten, you straighten your back while staring at the ungrateful idiot in front of you, mouth agape. You risked your life to save this asshole, and this is the gratitude you receive?

“I said what I said. I could’ve easily taken care of them and you ruined everything,” he deadpans, walking up and down your carpeted floor, massaging his temple. “Are you always this dumb, or did you just forget to drink your smart juice today? I mean, which dumbass just rushes into a dark alleyway without any help whatsoever?” 

“Hey, you better watch it!” you finally retort loudly. “Of course I didn’t stop to think, you were in fucking danger! Be grateful I even stepped in to try and help when I could have just walked away and let you take those 4 thugs by yourself. You wouldn’t even have stood a chance.”

He looks at you with flashing eyes right as you finish your angry speech; and you don’t have to try too hard to imagine the steam shooting out of his ears.

Just as he opens his mouth to fire another sarcastic comment, a series of loud bangs resound throughout your apartment. Your head shoots up towards your door, as the realisation dawns on you

Someone was trying to break down your door.

You rush over to the window and peek through the curtain and to your horror, you see the four thugs you had encountered—together with another four new men. They were back and definitely angrier than before.

“We’re gonna die!” you whisper-shout, shaking the man’s hand frantically as you look up at him. “I should’ve just left you in the alleyway.”

He rolls his eyes as he looks at you, pushing your hand off of him as he surveys your apartment.

“You go over and hide under that table over there.” he says, as he points to your desk that was tucked away far into the corner. “Don’t come out until I tell you to do so.”

You obediently nod and rush over to your table, wincing as you hear the door struggling to keep itself together, pieces of wood dropping onto your carpeted floor. 

_It’s gonna cost me a bomb to fix that…_

Quickly crouching under your table as far as you could, you watch as blondie (that’s what you decided to call him until you find out his name) opens the door for the eight men, smirk ever-present on his face.

_Why is that idiot smirking?! He’s about to get killed and he’s smirking?_

“Now, why don’t we skip the part where you yack till my ear bleeds and get on with the fight?” blondie asks, an air of confidence and pride surrounding him.

Without any warning three men rush towards him at the same time, flicking out knives and other weapons that you had never before seen in your life. Unable to watch the gruesome scene that was awaiting to happen, you shut your eyes tight, relying on your sense of hearing to alert you. 

You hear the clattering of knives, shortly followed by the sound of skin on bone contact, and finally, you hear the thud of human bodies hitting your floor. 

Without opening your eyes, you hear the sound of feet walking towards you, causing you to push yourself against the wall, hoping the thugs don’t find you under the table. You weren’t the best at handling pain, and you definitely didn’t want to know what was going to happen if they catch you. 

Instead of rough hands pulling you out from your hiding place as you had expected, you are met with soft hands grabbing your wrist, slowly pulling you out of your hiding place. You finally open your eyes, and you’re shocked by the scene that met you.

All eight thugs were laying on the ground, some groaning in pain, while some were deadly still. You really didn’t want to know what had happened to those who weren’t moving. 

“I told you I could handle it.”

Your eyes snap up towards the man beside you, your perspective of him completely changing as you view him in a different light. 

He no longer looked like a man who needed saving in your eyes. Instead, you could sense an aura of danger surrounding him. You imagine him sitting at the top of the throne, crown high on his head, as he ordered people left and right. Suddenly, you’re not sure who the most dangerous man standing in the room was anymore. 

“W-who are you?” you finally manage to stutter out, unconsciously taking a few steps away from him, wanting to put more distance between the both of you.

“I’m the man that just saved your life, so some gratitude would be nice,” he taunts, hinting at your earlier conversation. “My name is Bang Chan, and I am also the leader of the most sought after gang, SKZ. But you can call me Chan.”

Taking in as much as you could from that few words he had just uttered, the last thing you remember is whispering an “oh my God”, before falling to the ground, your surroundings turning black. 

* * *

You wake up to the sound of whispering all around you, your eyes squinting because of the bright light situated right above you. You whine out loud— annoyed that your rest had been interrupted by the constant whispering— abruptly being met with silence.

Raising your head slowly, you look around the place, expecting to be met with your blue curtains drawn fully, and your cluttered vanity, but instead you’re met with deep red curtains and nine people staring down at you; seven very unfamiliar and curious faces, and two familiar and worried faces. 

As your brain registers the two familiar faces in front of you, you sit up quickly, dread filling you as memories of what happened before you passed out comes rushing in. 

Just then, you realise who that one familiar face belonged to.

“They kidnapped you too?!” you scream at your college friend, immediately rushing over to him and pulling him away from the rest of them. “Are you hurt?”

As you are busy running your eyes over him, Changbin shifts around uncomfortably, trying to think of ways to break the news to you. 

“U-uh Y/n… They didn’t kidnap me,” he starts, catching your attention. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, waiting for him to then explain what the fuck he was doing there if he wasn’t kidnapped like you were. “I’m part of the gang, Y/n. I’m part of SKZ.”


End file.
